Shadows in the Sun [The Shadow Dancer] (2005) [NR] ***

A film review by Richard Strachan for futuremovies.co.uk on Jan. 1, 2005.

In this genial, if clichéd, romantic drama, Harvey Keitel plays celebrated novelist Weldon Parish, who hasn’t written a line in twenty years since the death of his beloved wife and is content instead to live as a recluse in a rustic village in Tuscany. Convinced that signing Parish would be to his company’s great financial success, London publisher Andrew Benton (John Rhys-Davies) dispatches callow junior editor Jeremy Taylor (Joshua Jackson) to convince the writer to take up his pen once more. Smug, sophisticated, yet harboring a secret desire to write himself, Jeremy is soon brought up short by the mercurial Parish and by the relaxed pace of life in rural Italy, and begins to question the direction of his own career when he falls in love with Parish’s daughter, Isabella (Claire Forlani). Little that follows is a great surprise – Jeremy gains the courage to explore his own talent, and in doing so helps Parish deal with his grief and start hitting the keys on his typewriter again. He even gets the girl at the end.

Writer/director Brad Mirman employs a number of stock characters in his script, from the priest who’s fond of a drink or two (played by Giancarlo Giannini), to Weldon Parish himself. Keitel’s tremendous leonine face is put to good use expressing the conflicted, abrasive and boisterous writer, but the character falls into that usual stereotypical depiction of a creative artist – half-crazed and half-inspired, and prone to weeping over his typewriter when forced to confront his inability to write. Most creative artists achieve their success through hard work, but a film about someone sitting in a room on their own, typing, would no doubt be a lot less interesting. We’re also never shown exactly what it is, or was, that made Weldon Parish such a great writer in the first place; apart from a brief glimpse of the dust jacket from his bestseller The Shadow Dancers, we’re left in the dark as to the scope of his literary talents.

The film slips into that American mode, popular since the days of Henry James, of assuming that the European approach to life is more relaxed, more natural, more realistic, while tacitly accepting its off-hand decadence, but it’s a well-meaning portrait of sleepy rural Italy on the whole. The supporting performances from the villagers are funny and natural, and Mirman certainly makes the most of his beautiful Tuscan backdrops. Unobjectionable and quite entertaining. [Strachan’s rating: *** out of 5 stars]

Labels: comedy, drama, romance
IMDb 66/100
RottenTomatoes (critics=43, viewers=61)

LINK TO COMPLETE YOUTUBE MOVIE WITHOUT ADS

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Official Secrets (2019) [R] ****

A film review by James Berardinelli for ReelViews.net on Aug. 28, 2019.

Official Secrets disrobes a scandal that received scant coverage in the U.S. media when it occurred some 15 years ago. Although hampered somewhat by a fragmented and procedural structure, the film nevertheless makes a compelling argument that the voice of the citizen in a Democracy isn’t as loud as one might like and it takes a strong constitution to play the role of the whistleblower. With a cast featuring a raft of prominent U.K. actors (Keira Knightley, Matthew Goode, Matt Smith, Ralph Fiennes, Rhys Ifans), the film examines one 2003 incident from three perspectives: the whistleblower (Katharine Gun, played by Knightley), the newspaper reporters who printed her story (Smith’s Martin Bright, Goode’s Peter Beaumont, and Ifans’ Ed Vulliamy), and the lawyer who defended her (Fiennes’ Ben Emmerson).

The movie opens in the run-up to the 2003 Iraq war with both the United States and the United Kingdom doing a fair amount of saber-rattling. Katharine Gun, working as a translator for the GCHQ (Government Communications Headquarters, a spy agency), is deeply disturbed by an intra-department memo requesting help in an illegal NSA operation to gather intelligence on various UN diplomats for the purposes of strong-arming their countries to support an anti-Iraq Security Council resolution. Following her conscience and recognizing it will mean violating the Official Secrets Act, Katharine copies the memo and passes it onto an anti-war friend.

Two weeks later, the memo surfaces at The Observer, where it comes into the possession of journalist Martin Bright. After consulting with two associates, Peter Beaumont and Ed Vulliamy, Bright does everything within his powers to verify the memo’s authenticity. His published story is initially a sensation but the U.S. government is able to discredit it. That doesn’t stop authorities from conducting an investigation. When Katharine confesses to spare her co-workers from grueling interrogations, she is swiftly arrested. The government, playing hardball, keeps her in a state of uncertainty for months about whether she is going to be charged. Additionally, they threaten her Kurdish husband, Yasar (Adam Bakri), with deportation. Recognizing the desperation of her situation, she contacts respected lawyer Ben Emmerson for representation.

From a theatrical standpoint, whistleblowers make uniquely sympathetic characters, especially in cases like this when their motives appear to be entirely altruistic and/or patriotic (unlike, for example, Edward Snowden or Julian Assange, whose narcissistic qualities counterbalance their likability). Katharine is driven solely by her conscience, risking everything in the naïve hope that she can stop a war. In the end, her efforts are fruitless but she places herself and her husband at risk. Her struggle, which is initially global in scope, ultimately becomes very personal. Having learned everything that has come out in the past 15 years, the forces aligned against Katharine seem pernicious and vindictive.

Gavin Hood, who once touched the A-list when he was pegged to helm Wolverine, has returned to the smaller films that initially got him noticed. Official Secrets is his first project since 2015’s blistering, underrated Eye in the Sky. The multifaceted aspects of the story at times makes it feel disjointed and some of the artificial thriller elements (such as a car racing through traffic to get to an airport and ominous thugs shadowing Katharine) are unnecessary. The movie also bites off a little too much – by having so many characters representing different parts of the story, there’s a sense that some of those mini-narratives aren’t fully fleshed out. It could be argued that the reporters’ segments deserve their own movie.

To date, The Insider probably represents the most compelling whistleblower story to make it to the big screen and, although the subject matter is different, Official Secrets generates in the viewer the same sense of outrage. Likewise, there are echoes of Spotlight in Official Secrets (insofar as investigative journalism is concerned), but the limitations of this movie are made evident by the comparison. Although Official Secrets may take liberties with the historical record, it’s effective as both a drama and a cautionary tale and the lessons it teaches are possibly more relevant in today’s world than they were 15 years ago. [Berardinelli’s rating: *** out of 4 stars]

Labels: biography, crime, drama, Keira Knightley, spy, thriller, war
IMDb 73/100
MetaScore (critics=63, viewers=73)
RottenTomatoes Averages (critics=69, viewers=86)
Netflix
Berardinelli’s review

 

The Queen’s Gambit (2020) [TV-MA] ***** (updated January 25, 2023)

A film review by Allison Shoemaker for rogerebert.com on Oct. 23, 2020.

When you read the words Netflix limited drama series about addiction, obsession, trauma, and chess, the first adjective which springs to mind is probably not thrilling. But here we are, and The Queen’s Gambit, Scott Frank’s adaptation of Walter Tevis’ coming-of-age novel of the same name, absolutely demands the use of thrilling. Anchored by a magnetic lead performance and bolstered by world-class acting, marvelous visual language, a teleplay that’s never less than gripping, and an admirable willingness to embrace contradiction and ambiguity, it’s one of the year’s best series. While not without flaws, it is, in short, a triumph. And it is satisfying not just as a compelling period drama, a character study, and a feast for the eyes. It’s also, at its heart, a sports movie wrapped up in the vestments of a prestige TV series. Ask yourself this: When is the last time you fist-pumped the air over chess? Isn’t that something you deserve?

Odds are that Beth Harmon (the remarkable Anya Taylor-Joy) will earn quite a few fist-pumps as people discover Frank and co-creator Alan Scott’s excellent series. We meet Beth as an eight-year-old (Isla Johnson) when she’s left impossibly unharmed - physically, at least - by the car crash that kills her mother. Her father’s not in the picture, so Beth finds herself at the Methuen Home, a Christian school for orphans in Mt. Sterling, Kentucky. While there, she develops three things: a friendship with Jolene (newcomer Moses Ingram, excellent), a passion for chess, and a physical and emotional dependence on the little green tranquilizers fed to the children until they’re outlawed by the state of Kentucky. When she finally leaves the school, she’s got those last two things packed in her suitcase alongside a bunch of chess books, a sizable ego, some unexplored trauma, and no small amount of self-loathing. But it’s the game that drives her, sending her both to the heights of the competitive chess world and, increasingly, to her hoard of pills and the oblivion offered by alcohol.

In short, Beth has a lot to handle. Luckily, Anya Taylor-Joy is more than up to the task. Playing Beth from 15 onward, Taylor-Joy gives the kind of performance that only becomes more riveting the longer you sit with it. It’s a turn of both intoxicating glamour and precious little vanity, internal without ever being closed-off, heartbreakingly vulnerable and sharply funny, often at once. Much of the story hinges on when and how Beth is alone - and sometimes she’s most alone when surrounded by people - and Taylor-Joy’s performance is particularly remarkable in these moments. Scenes of Beth alone in her home, in a stranger’s apartment, on a plane, in her bed at night - they all hum with the kind of energy that only arises when one is truly unobserved. In this case, however, she’s creating that energy in a room full of cameras and crew members. That kind of honesty and release is the stuff of acting legend, like Eleanora Duse’s blush. It’s yet another high watermark in a young career already full of them, and somehow she’s never better than when Beth is sitting silently behind a chess board.

We’ll come back to those scenes, but it would be a mistake to assume that Taylor-Joy’s only great scene partner is the camera, gazing from across the 64 squares of the board. Frank and casting director Ellen Lewis assembled an ensemble of heavy-hitters, including the great Bill Camp as Mr. Shaibel, the isolated janitor who introduces Beth to the game, Thomas Brodie-Sangster (as Benny Watts) and Harry Melling (as Harry Beltik) two young men who are first chess rivals, then lovers and eventually allies in the chess world, the wonderful (if underused) Moses Ingram, and actor / writer / director Marielle Heller, who gives a hypnotic performance as the fragile, damaged, compassionate Alma Wheatley, the woman who eventually welcomes Beth into her home. There’s not a dud in the bunch; even the actors who show up for a scene or two at most give performances that feel fully inhabited. It’s a stunner of an ensemble.

And here’s a bonus: they all look incredible. The Crown is rightly praised for its sumptuous, detailed production design and costuming, and The Queen’s Gambit will likely find itself compared to its Netflix predecessor with some frequency. But for all the strengths of The Crown, it rarely showcases the kind of imagination on display here. Costume designer Gabriele Binder, hair and makeup head Daniel Parker, and production designer Uli Hanisch (the latter of Cloud Atlas, Sense8, and Babylon Berlin) do much more than capture the look and feel of the 1960s in the United States and abroad. They use that aesthetic to illuminate Beth’s mindset. When does Beth embrace the wilder aspects of ‘60s makeup? Why, when she’s balancing precariously on the edge and her thick eyeliner serves to make her look even thinner and more fragile. That’s one example of many. It’s incredibly thoughtful and stylish. Consider it isolated breakdown chic.

The aesthetic of Beth’s inner world is also explored, though to detail what that looks like and what it means is to diminish some of the pleasure (and anxiety) it engenders. Just know that it lends Beth’s struggles a visceral energy that most stories of addiction tend to either take for granted or overplay. And for the most part, that care and thoughtfulness is found in all of the tropes present in The Queen’s Gambit (and there are plenty of tropes - this is a sports movie in disguise, after all). That said, Frank’s largely excellent teleplays do occasionally stumble, particularly when it comes to race (Jolene deserves better) and gender. The latter is a shortcoming shared with Frank’s Godless - both have their hearts in the right place, but are perhaps not as thoughtful or insightful when it comes to sex, love, and the realities of a patriarchal society than they believe themselves to be.

Frankly, it’s hard to get too worked up about those shortcomings thought, especially when the chess starts. The chess! My god, the chess. Like any good sports movie, this character-driven period drama lives and dies by its editing. Editor Michelle Tesoro should go ahead and buy a bookshelf for all the hardware she’s about to pick up for The Queen’s Gambit right now; the chess sequences are all electric, and each in its own way. One will make you hold your breath. Two will likely bring you to tears. Some are funny. Some are infuriating. Some are, somehow, very, very sexy. Each is electric, and Tesoro and Taylor-Joy make them so through skill, talent, and precision. (Some credit here is also due to chess consultants Bruce Pandolfini and Garry Kasparov. I know very little about chess, but somehow The Queen’s Gambit convinced me otherwise and dazzled me all at once.)

Every truly great sports story has not one, but two beating hearts. There’s the sport itself, a game or competition in which the viewer becomes undeniably invested. And then there’s the player or players, someone whose life is much bigger than the game, yet is nevertheless somewhat consumed by it. The Queen’s Gambit has both those hearts, and both are racing. Frank, Taylor-Joy, and company never stop telling both those stories at once, and the result is a fascinating portrait of a young woman fighting to become the person she wants to be, battling for victory and for peace. When her journey brings her to Paris, she remembers the words of a woman who loved her and spends some time wandering museums, feeding her soul with something more than chess. Yet there’s never any doubt that somewhere, in some corner of her mind, she’s got her eyes on the board. What a privilege it is to see that corner and see the world’s beauty, all at once. [Shoemaker’s rating: 3.5 stars out of 4 = 88%]

Blogger's comments and links:

The ending scene takes place in Moscow early in 1968, the morning after Beth defeated Vasily Borgov to win the Moscow Invitational Tournament. She is on the way to the airport to leave Moscow, accompanied by her CIA handler, when she asks the driver to stop because she wants to walk. She walks down the promenade where she knows elderly gentlemen gather to play chess outdoors, and of course they recognize her and clearly they love her. For a girl who never knew her own father, and who had a father figure in the orphanage janitor Willian Shaibel who taught her to play chess, this is fulfillment - to be appreciated, even worshipped in Russia, a country obsessed with the game of chess. The first gentleman to recognize her then invites her to sit down. They set up the chess board, Beth removes her gloves, and the last word of the film is her saying sygrayem, pronounced sy.GRY.em, Russian for Let's Play. LINK

The Queen's Gambit ending explained; the major moments that wrapped up the story. LINK TO CINEMABLEND WEBPAGE

If the ending to the film made you tear up, you are not alone. It made Anya Taylor-Joy cry as well. LINK TO REFINERY29 ARTICLE

Beth Harmon's final word in the film is sygrayem which literally means Let's Play in Russian. LINK TO TRANSLATION WEBSITE

Magnus Carlsen (world chess champion since 2013) breaks down Harmon v Borgov final game from The Queen's Gambit LINK

 

The Queen's Gambit guide to Lexington, Kentucky LINK

Labels: chess, drama, Fifties, high-school, romance, rom-drama-faves, Sixties, teenager

IMDb 86/100 
MetaScore (critics=79, viewers=30) 
RottenTomatoes Averages (critics=96, viewers=94) 

Allison Shoemaker review 

Soundtrack

 

 

Blogger's comments on the novel:

The Walter Tevis novel of the same name strongly resembles the TV series, especially in the use of dialogue and narration from the novel. However, there are some notable differences (SPOILERS AHEAD). While Beth visualizes games in her head, she does not visualize them on the ceiling of her room. Townes has a much smaller part in the novel, he is not identified as gay and he does not appear at the 1968 Russian Invitational Tournament in the last episode. Cleo, whom Beth meets in Benny's NYC apartment, is an American girl named Jenny in the novel. She is not at the 1967 Paris Remy-Vallon tournament that Beth loses to Borgov. In the novel, Beth participates in the 1968 Kentucky State Chess Championship and loses. In the miniseries she goes to the tournament, has an argument with Harry Beltik in the parking lot and does not participate in the tournament. Jolene does not contact Beth; Beth gets her phone number from Mrs. Deardorff at Methuen. Jolene is living in Louisville. She was a Phys. Ed. major at Kentucky State University and through her efforts Beth goes to a gym every day for several months, gets in shape physically and gets her drinking and Librium addiction under control.

 

Being a visual person and loving film, especially romantic drama and comedy, I have to say that I much prefer the miniseries. Now, if we were comparing a 243-page paperback novel with a 2-hour film it might not be a fair comparison, but we are comparing it with a 393-minute (6hr 33min) 7-part miniseries. If a person read at 37 pages/hr it would take just about the same time to read the novel or watch the miniseries and the miniseries gives a MUCH richer experience. I don't ever need to read the novel again and I've watched the miniseries at least four times - so far.

 

Having thought about it a little more, let me say the novel provides intellectual understanding; it supports and enriches the experience of the miniseries. The miniseries gives significance to the intellectual understanding provided by the novel. The novel especially helps us understand what is going on inside Beth's mind and body before, during and after tournaments. Also, Beth's relationships with Jolene, Alma Wheatley, Harry Beltik and Benny Watts are developed a little better in the novel. What is absent in the novel? Well, there are very few details about how Alice Harmon, Beth's mother, dies. There's no Cleo at Remy-Vallon in Paris. There's no Townes in Moscow. Also, the novel helped me understand how Beth financed her life, was able to buy out Allston Wheatley's equity for $7,000 and make the mortgage payments, from her tournament winnings. So the novel does have value.

 

There are any number of delightful little cookies in this series. For instance, after Beth is adopted in Episode 2, she accompanies Alma to Ben Snyder's department store in Lexington, to shop for clothes. On the way upstairs to the bargain department she is attracted by two mannequins displaying dresses, before being captivated by the display of chess boards. We learn that Beth likes nice clothes. And after she wins the Kentucky State Chess Championship in October, 1963, she buys the blue dress with her winnings and we see her wearing it when she and Alma go to the Cincinnati Open Tournament. But the other dress, the white and black one? She wears that dress to the U.S. Open in Las Vegas in 1966.

 

Episode 1 "Openings": The film being shown in the orphanage auditorium is The Robe (1953) starring Richard Burton and Jean Simmons.

Episode 3 "Doubled Pawns", 30:39: Beth and Alma are in their hotel room at the 1966 US Open in Las Vegas. Alma is watching a murder mystery on the TV The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946). Martha (Barbara Stanwyck) is talking with Sam Masterson (Van Heflin):

Martha: What do you want?

Sam: I think I've got one. I think I've got a gimmick. A gimmick is an angle that works for you. To keep you from working too hard for yourself.

* * * * *

Being a hopeless romantic, I was naturally disappointed with the lack of romance in the series, and so I have envisioned an eighth episode which takes place first in Moscow and later in Lexington, Kentucky. Beth gets out of her State Department handler's cab on the way to the airport not only because she wants to visit the park where the elderly men are playing chess, but also because she and David Townes are falling in love and have agreed to stay in Moscow together after the tournament ends.

So he comes to the park, and after she has finished playing her chess game, which she wins of course, she and David take a cab to the airport, pick up her luggage and find a smaller, less-expensive hotel to stay in. After a few days together seeing the sights in Moscow they board a plane and return to the U.S. Beth invites David to stay with her and eventually they get married.

It turns out that David was not really gay, as he tried earlier to explain to her. He was just confused. Is he bisexual? Who knows?

A Good Year (2006) [PG-13] ****

 

Young Max Skinner (Freddie Highmore) was only a boy when he spent summers with his uncle Henry (Albert Finney). Uncle Henry owned La Siroque, an estate with a chateau, vineyard, tennis court and swimming pool, where Max learned about winemaking, tennis and chess. However, after Max went to university in England, the years went by and he stopped visiting his uncle and La Siroque.

Now Max (Russell Crowe) is a ruthless bond trader in London, walking a fine line between legal and illegal trades, and growing quite wealthy in the process. One day he receives a letter from an attorney in Provence. Uncle Henry has died, and with no will, Max seems to be in line to inherit the estate. But will he maintain the estate and keep vigneron Francis Duflot (Didier Bourdon) and his wife Ludivine (Isabelle Candelier) on to manage the vineyards and produce the wine, or will he sell, as his realtor friend Charlie (Tom Hollander) expects? And when Christie Roberts (Abbie Cornish) arrives from America and claims to be Henry's long-lost illegitimate daughter, is she for real, or simply an enterprising con artist? And, finally, when Max meets and falls in love with bistro owner Fanny Chenal (Marion Cotillard), will he, at last, come to appreciate the legacy his beloved Uncle Henry has left him?

This is a thoughtful, character-driven romantic comedy-drama based on a novel by Peter Mayle, an inventive screenplay by Marc Klein, masterful direction by Ridley Scott, terrific performances from the entire cast, especially Highmore, Finney, Crowe, Bourdon and Cotillard, gorgeous cinematography and a fine musical score. A Good Year is the film that A Walk in the Clouds had the potential to be, so if you enjoyed that earlier film, expect to be thrilled by this one. 

Blogger's note: While critics were generally luke-warm toward A Good Year, my favorite professional film critic, James Berardinelli, embraced it, awarding it *** out of 4 stars. Personally, I award the film **** out of 5 stars.

MILD SPOILER: Toward the end of the film there's a scene with Max Skinner and his boss Sir Nigel (Kenneth Cranham). Sir Nigel offers Max a partnership in the firm or a very lucrative buyout as severance. The only way the buyout makes sense is if it includes a non-compete clause, which means Max could never work as a bond trader again, definitely not in the U.K. and probably not on the European continent either.

"I enjoy making wine because this sublime nectar is quite simply incapable of lying. Picked too early, picked too late, it matters not. The wine will always whisper into your mouth with complete, unabashed honesty, every time you take a sip." (Albert Finney, at the film's 3:20 mark)

Labels: comedy, drama, rom-drama-faves, romance, winemaking     
Internet Movie Database 69/100     
MetaScore (critics=47, viewers=67)    
RottenTomatoes Averages (critics=26, viewers=72)
Wikipedia A Good Year (film)
Gordes, Provence, France
Blu-ray

The Namesake (2006) [PG-13] ****/*****

A film review by James Berardinelli for ReelViews.net.

The Namesake is an affecting drama spanning two generations of an Indian American family and exploring the generational and cultural conflicts that arise as a result of their assimilation into society. By carefully developing her characters and allowing us to believe they exist beyond what is shown on screen, director Mira Nair is able to cover 25 years without making the audience feel that the plot leaps forward awkwardly or that story gaps are left unfilled. The Namesake is a chronicle not so much of events but of individuals and the ways in which tension develops between them and how each makes peace with who he or she is.

The film confronts common problems faced by immigrants. They come to the United States and make sacrifices so their children can have better opportunities. Those children, growing up under the umbrella of Western influence, often reject all or a part of their parents' culture. This can cause pain and anxiety and create rifts between generations. The parents see their children's actions as rebellious; the children view their parents as backward and clinging to outmoded lifestyles. The Namesake certainly isn't the first film to address this situation, but it accomplishes something that most other productions of this nature (such as Bend It Like Beckham) do not do. By opening the tale with the parents as newlyweds and beginning the story well before the children are born, we are able to see the conflict from both sides and to gain a more complete understanding of the issues and misunderstandings that arise.

The Namesake starts during the mid-1970s in Calcutta, where Ashoke (Irfan Khan) and Ashima (Tabu) are introduced to one another and enter into an arranged marriage. It is not a love match but, over the years, affection grows. Shortly after the wedding, the couple moves to New York, where Ashoke has been living for the past two years. Ashima is lonely and wants to go home but Ashoke does his best to make her happy. They have two children: Gogol (Kal Penn), who is named after the Russian writer (leading to the movie's title), and Sonia (Sahira Nair). Both of them grow up as Americanized as any of their Caucasian classmates, to the point where Sonia resents a trip to India when she is a teenager. They leave home as soon as they can - Gogol to live with his white girlfriend, Maxine (Jacinda Barrett), and Sonia to go to college in California. But a tragedy reunites the family and forces the children to consider their heritage.

For Nair, this represents an opportunity once again to delve into the subject of societal melting pots and cross-cultural friction. Elements of the film echo themes Nair explored in Mississippi Masala and to which she has returned several times over the years. There is nothing preachy or strident in the way she approaches these issues. Instead, she takes a non-judgmental stance and depicts the real-life consequences such circumstances can have on those trapped on either side of the conflict. In The Namesake, the parents give their children more latitude than many first generation Americans. The result is greater freedom for Gogol and Sonia (even if they don't realize this) but more sadness for Ashoke and Ashima.

The acting is uniformly excellent. For the roles of Ashoke and Ashima, Nair has employed prolific Bollywood stars Tabu and Irfan Khan, both of whom give performances of great range and empathy. Tabu is especially popular in India; this is one of her first opportunities to display her talents to the international market and it is a favorable impression. Kal Penn plays Gogol as an adult and shows greater dramatic ability than one might have expected from someone whose best known credits are as a guy trying to find a hamburger joint and a stooge (with no dialogue) guarding Lex Luthor's back. Australian Jacinda Barrett once again plays the girl with all-American good looks. Nair's daughter, Sahira, is the adult Sonia and Rome's Zuleikha Robinson portrays another of Gogol's love interests.

The Namesake has a scope that many multi-generational stories lack. Often, it takes a mini-series to develop the kind of rapport with the characters that Nair achieves in a mere two hours. As is the case in real life, there are high points and low points, times of joy and times of tragedy, deaths and births, and marriages and divorces. We go through all of these things alongside the characters, seeing events through more than one pair of eyes and feeling emotions with more than one heart. It's difficult to overstate what the director and her screenwriter, Sooni Taraporevala, have achieved with this adaptation of Jhumpa Lahiri's novel. They have taken events specific to one culture and produced a movie that is universal in its appeal and thematic content. The Namesake is a rich and moving motion picture. [Berardinelli’s rating: 3.5 out of 4 stars = 87.5%

Labels: cross-cultural, drama
IMDb 75/100
MetaScore (critics=82, viewers=79)
RottenTomatoes Averages (critics=75, viewers=76)
Berardinelli’s review

Mona Lisa Smile (2003) [PG-13] ***/****

A film review by James Berardinelli for ReelViews.net.

Mona Lisa Smile is an exercise in relentless mediocrity - a trite melodrama that raises a number of interesting possibilities, then ignores them in favor of taking the safe path. In the process, it undermines its own thesis of female empowerment, and is guilty of underutilizing a vast pool of talent. Actresses Julia Roberts, Kirsten Dunst, and Julia Stiles are relegated to playing one-dimensional, uninteresting roles in a movie that could easily be dubbed Dead Poets Sorority. If the point of Mona Lisa Smile was to be as bland as possible, it accomplishes the goal.

The movie transpires on the campus of Wellesley College during the 1953-54 academic year. Katherine Watson (Julia Roberts), a new arts history teacher, is excited about the prospect of interacting with a student body comprised of the most intelligent women in the United States. But she is disappointed by what she finds - most of her students view their time at Wellesley as a steppingstone to wedded bliss. They do not deem it to be possible to have both a successful career and a marriage. After all, how would it be possible to have the dinner on the table every night if they're working? Betty Warren (Kirsten Dunst) is the biggest believer in a woman's traditional role, and becomes Katherine's most energetic sparring partner. Joan Brandwyn (Julia Stiles), Betty's best friend, is torn between marrying her boyfriend and applying to law school. Connie Baker (Ginnifer Goodwin) isn't concerned about marriage - she just wants to find a boyfriend. And Giselle Levy (Maggie Gyllenhaal) may be the most sexually liberated of the bunch, but she finds herself harboring a crush on her Italian teacher, Bill Dunbar (Dominc West), who, in turn, is pursuing Katherine.

The Dead Poets Society connection is both immediately obvious and misleading. Despite its manipulative tendencies, the 1989 film contained moments of great emotional power - an element that is lacking in Mona Lisa Smile. With only minor exceptions, everything that occurs during the movie's slow-paced 115 minutes is pre-ordained. If you have seen the trailers, you have seen the film. This is by-the-numbers plotting that takes no chances and offers an obligatory uplifting ending that is neither justified nor credible.

One of the supposed goals of Mona Lisa Smile is to underline the fact that women of the '50s could break out of traditionally defined roles and still live fulfilling lives. As an iconic representation of this new woman, Katherine fails. She is frustrated in her personal life, her career requires compromises she is unwilling to make, and Joan Brandwyn, one of her pet projects, disappoints her. The victory she wins at the end is pyrrhic; careful examination of the subtext might easily lead one to believe that the route to happiness necessitates giving in to tradition and making the most out of it. That's not the message the movie wants viewers to come away with, but, for those who take the time to look, it is there.

Julia Roberts is a fine actress, but she sleepwalks her way through this part, imbuing Katherine with little in the way of charm or passion. The opposite is true of Kirsten Dunst, who goes over-the-top in turning Betty into the most astonishingly one-dimensional bitch to hit screens this year. Julia Stiles shows even less personality than Roberts; her character is easily overlooked and is the most likely to be forgotten. Mona Lisa Smile's bright spots come from Maggie Gyllenhaal and Ginnifer Goodwin, whose performances are on-target and whose characters are interesting enough to warrant more screen time than they are given.

Mona Lisa Smile's director is Mike Newell, whose previous credits include the gangster film Donnie Brasco, the underrated jewel Enchanted April, and the internationally-known Four Weddings and a Funeral. For Newell, this is an inexplicable misstep. He tries his best to fashion an inspirational, feel-good tale, but the lack of compelling characters and the reliance upon formulas makes this movie a late-night cable TV time killer at best. The most likely facial expression to be elicited by Mona Lisa Smile is a grimace. [Berardinelli’s rating: 50/100 (2 out of 4 stars)]

Labels: college, drama, Fifties, Julia Stiles
IMDb 65/100 
MetaScore (critics=45, viewers=70) 
RottenTomatoes Averages (critics=49, viewers=70) 
Blu-ray 

Emily in Paris (2020) [TV-MA] ****

A film review by Roxana Hadadi for rogerebert.com on October 1, 2020.

Emily in Paris is a Bland Sex and the City Imitation with No Identity of Its Own

Darren Star’s TV shows have long been dismissed as frothy confections interchangeably obsessed with wealth and sex, but they’ve never been boring. With their perpetual angst and recurring bed hopping, Beverly Hills, 90210 and Melrose Place pushed back against the conservatism of primetime TV. Sex and the City not only revived HBO and introduced new generations to Manolo Blahnik shoes, but also brought questions about women’s sexual desire to the pop-culture forefront. And Younger has been a surprise hit for TV Land, morphing into a cult favorite that amusingly tackles questions of ageism and sexism.

None of the same praise can be leveled toward Star’s newest effort, Emily in Paris. All of the criticisms that have previously been leveled at Star are actually valid when it comes to the Netflix series, which is so devoid of narrative tension that it barely qualifies as entertainment. The show doesn’t seem to have an understanding of the social media or marketing industries on which it is focused; it mistakes having a closet full of designer clothes as possessing a personality; and it relies so much on farcical national stereotypes that it might bring back traumatizing flashbacks of Carrie, Miranda, Samantha, and Charlotte’s trip to Abu Dhabi in the loathsome Sex and the City 2. Lily Collins does her best at playing a Midwestern girl swept up in the glamour of Parisian living, but the show overall is irredeemably inauthentic and aggravatingly superficial.

From its very first scene, Emily in Paris introduces its protagonist, Emily Cooper (Collins), as a striver and a go-getter. On a cold Chicago morning, Emily runs five miles in 41 minutes, a pleased smile spreading over her face when her exercise app informs her that she shaved 18 seconds off her previous personal best. Emily is used to success: She’s a rising star at the Gilbert Group marketing firm, having made her name on pharmaceutical and geriatric care products, and she’s in a committed relationship. But when her pregnant boss (Kate Walsh) is forced to back out of a one-year work assignment in Paris with a smaller luxury marketing company, Savoir, that the Gilbert Group just acquired, the responsibility falls to Emily.

Emily sees the opportunity as an adventure, a chance to live in a beautiful place and further her career. There are just a few issues: She doesn’t speak French, and she doesn’t have any experience marketing the wares in Savoir’s portfolio, like couture fashion or fragrance. But no matter! Emily is sassy, and she says the words content and engagement a lot, and she has what the show insists are great ideas. Despite the French haters, Emily will make it work.

That broad generalization is about the level of detail that Star puts into characterizing the professional challenges that Emily encounters in her new position. The focus of Emily in Paris more often becomes how mean the French people are to Emily, from her cranky landlady to her boss, Sylvie (Philippine Leroy-Beaulieu), who is offended by everything about the American now in their office. Emily’s experience was in marketing IBS medication, Sylvia smirks, so how could she understand what the French people want in, say, lingerie? But expecting any Mad Men-style scenes explaining how Emily comes up with any of her immediately magical ideas is a fool’s errand, because Emily in Paris instead relies over and over again on how Emily’s winning American pluck helps her overcome any problem.

There is nothing more to Emily than the fantastic outfits (imagined by Sex and the City costume designer Patricia Field) that somehow fit in her cramped apartment with what is described as only one drawer. She is a social media savant who somehow accrues thousands of Instagram followers with eye-rolling captions like Drinking champagne in Champagne, and who claims to know the American consumer without any data or statistics to back that up. At least Sex and the City showed us Carrie writing, shopping, dating, and doing things in life that informed her work and her point of view. Whether you liked Ms. Bradshaw or not, you understood her, the tenors of her friendships, and how the kind of person she imagined herself as sometimes contrasted with how she actually acted. There is none of that depth in Emily in Paris, which is only interested in its titular character in terms of what she wears and who she kisses. And even then, it all falls flat - the love triangles, the workplace rivalries - because there’s no passion to anything Emily does. Collins is always ready with a broad smile and a peppy delivery, and she gamely plays along with how often Star writes in genitalia-related humor (a whole episode centered around the French word coq!), but Emily never feels like a real person.

Perhaps all of this would be excusable, or even tolerable, if Emily in Paris treated its main character with any skepticism at all. To the show’s credit, it briefly engages with this idea when Emily meets a client who calls her a basic bitch for decorating her purse with a keychain shaped like the Eiffel Tower. For a moment, it feels like the show’s incongruous details about Emily - that she grew up in the Midwest, but doesn’t know how to clean a cast-iron pan; that she’s been taking months of French classes, but doesn’t know that an aubergine is an eggplant; that she loves eating Parisian cuisine, but doesn’t know that the dessert crème brulee has a crisp top of burnt sugar - are hints that she isn’t as sophisticated as she would like to believe, and that she has in fact been performing a version of herself. But Emily in Paris veers away from that more subversive consideration of its protagonist by giving her an impassioned monologue about how basic bitches are the backbone of the fashion industry; the designer to whom she is delivering her lecture comes around, of course, and the two bond over the show Gossip Girl.

That setup - Emily correcting the French by proclaiming how great Americans really are - is one Emily in Paris returns to often, much like how Star had Carrie quit Paris in the final season of Sex and the City. The tactic is never as cute as the show thinks it is. And Emily in Paris is so certain of Emily’s perfection that there is no real impact when she makes a mistake, like pursuing a friend’s boyfriend, flirting with a client, or potentially ruining Paris Fashion Week. Problems are wrapped up within each episode’s 30-minute run time and previous subplots rarely carry over, which is particularly strange when the show attempts to tackle the #MeToo movement and the French perspective. Emily becomes the voice of harassed women, making a grand speech with a number of buzzwords about female strength and the male gaze. But that perspective comes out nowhere; before that point, we had no idea what Emily thought about feminism. And the subject never comes up again, although it would have been thought-provoking for the show to consider whether Emily’s ideology complicates the work she does with luxury brands that so often rely on traditional standards of female beauty to sell their products. Emily in Paris drops the conversation before it gets interesting.

Perhaps the only way to enjoy Emily in Paris is to watch it with the knowledge that the characters surrounding Emily are more intriguing than she is, like Mindy Chen (Ashley Park), the Chinese heiress-turned-reality-show-contestant-turned-nanny who befriends Emily and serves as her Samantha, or Emily’s boss, Sylvie, who has achieved so much success in a field dominated mostly by men, and who is understandably annoyed by Emily’s prying into her personal life. Leroy-Beaulieu’s performance is particularly strong, and Sylvie’s cynicism serves as a refreshing contrast to Emily’s relentless positivity. Also solid is the show’s direction, which is crisp and effective, although overly reliant on pop songs for scene transitions. Technically, Emily in Paris is well-made, but the show’s shortcomings - from its simplistic depiction of French culture to its paper-thin protagonist - make it more of an irritation than an indulgence. [Hadadi’s rating: 2 of 5 stars.

Labels: comedy, drama, fashion, Paris, romance
IMDb 73
MetaScore(critics=62, viewers=57) 
RottenTomatoesAverages (critics=63, viewers=64)
Link to review